


Moonlight Stroll

by Spooky831



Series: A Series of Events [6]
Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-03
Updated: 2016-07-03
Packaged: 2018-07-19 23:02:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,015
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7380988
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Spooky831/pseuds/Spooky831
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Gregory and Mycroft take a walk and have a chat.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Moonlight Stroll

Mycroft Holmes bit his lip as the door opened and closed again, admitting yet another stranger to the restaurant. He was seated towards the back of the room, at a table covered in a red silk tablecloth and with an empty chair placed next to him. 

Gregory Lestrade was late. Almost twenty minutes late. 

Sighing, Mycroft clutched the hook of his umbrella. He should have known that this would happen. Gorgeous policemen didn’t want to date him. Even policemen who had… Mycroft blushed again at the memory of his and Greg’s encounter last week. 

Looking up he saw Gregory finally entering the restaurant. Relieved, he gave him a small wave.

“Hey,” said Gregory, sitting across from him, “Sorry… criminals acting up again.”

Mycroft gave him a small smile. “I understand completely.”

“It’s been mad,” said Gregory, “in fact I should really be finishing my paperwork right now but we’ve been missing each other all week.”

It was true – between a small crisis in Chile and a strangling in Peckham, neither man had had the quietest few days.

“I like your suit – very sexy,” said Gregory, looking him up and down.

Mycroft swallowed. It was one of his favourites – grey with lilac trimmings.

“Thank you,” he replied, “just something I threw on of course.”

Gregory grinned.

“I nearly strangled your brother today,” he said, “not that that’s particularly shocking I suppose.”

“Indeed not.”

They settled into a brief silence while each perused the menu. Mycroft settled on a Waldorf salad while Gregory ordered a filet mignon. A bottle of red wine appeared at their table and soon both men were sipping.

“So, third date huh,” remarked Gregory, looking into his eyes and smiling again.

Mycroft felt a flush of nerves as he contemplated this – this was officially the most number of dates he had been on with a person. From now on this was completely uncharted territory. Provided of course that Gregory didn’t soon find a more suitable companion.  
“Listen, I guess I just want to say…”

Mycroft’s heart rate increased. Of course, it would go no further. How could he have been so silly as to think otherwise?

“…that I really like you. God I am rubbish at this but I what I am trying to say is that I would like us to be dating. Officially, I mean. As in exclusively.” Gregory reddened slightly as he said this but continued to look him in the eye.

Mycroft didn’t have anything to say. He felt slightly stunned.

“Look I realize that it’s a bit soon for all this but I’m a one person kind of fellow and I know this is all a bit new to you so better to just lay it all out there.”

“I – thank you,” said Mycroft. Inwardly he cringed, what sort of response was that? No, he needed to magic together a few more words. “I would like that,” he added. 

“I’m glad,” said Gregory.

They continued with their meal – a very pleasant affair actually. After some initial awkwardness their easy conversation returned, likely eased by the light wine accompanying them.

Finally Gregory was digging into a rather delicious looking blueberry cheesecake, which he had regrettably had to decline. “Fancy a walk on the embankment?” he asked, “the night is still young.”

Feeling more relaxed, Mycroft smiled and nodded. He paid the bill (against Gregory’s insistence), collected his umbrella, and they made their way towards the riverfront.

It was a warm evening and London was its usually busy self. The embankment was still crowded – mainly tourists, though a fair number of couples as well. 

As they reached the edge of the river, walking side by side, Gregory brushed his hand against his. “This ok?” he asked.

Mycroft flushed. He nodded and grabbed his companion’s hand. He gave a fleeting thought to who may be watching them but he found himself unconcerned, cocooned in a feeling of giddiness.

They continued their stroll for a further ten minutes – chatting about nothing in particular. They stopped close to the London eye and gazed across the river. 

“This is quite romantic,” Mycroft remarked. Bravely, he stroked his thumb across Gregory’s. In return, his companion pulled him closer.  
“Fancy some tea at my place? Gregory asked.

“Yes, some er, tea would be lovely,” replied Mycroft. Tea indeed. Their previous “tea” session had fuelled quite a number of fantasies for the past couple of weeks – something that was new and somewhat disconcerting as sex had never played a major role in his life before now. Even how, thinking about it, his groin began to stir. He wondered what Gregory had planned for tonight – for the other man thus far had taken the lead in all their encounters, a fact for which Mycroft was grateful.

Embarrassingly, he had found himself visiting a number of illicit websites for the past week in a dual effort to relieve his newfound tension and a desperate attempt to increase his knowledge of the subject.

“Brilliant, I’ll just hail a cab so.”

Gregory walked towards the street. Suddenly a ringing noise emerged from his coat pocket. Mycroft pulled the offending mobile out, looked at the screen, and groaned. Anthea. 

“Yes?” he answered.

“I’m terribly sorry sir but you are needed,” said Anthea.

He sighed. “I’ll send the car around,” said Anthea, and hung up.

He looked over to Gregory who had hailed a taxi and stood stopped nearby when he had heard seen him on the mobile.

“Work?” he asked, looking disappointed.

“Yes,” he replied, feeling equally disappointed. A likely long night of bitter diplomacy contrasted deeply with his hopes for this evening

“I understand,” said Gregory, stepping closer and closer until they were toe to toe. He then leaned up and gave him a soft peck on the lips. Mycroft felt a short-lived jolt of pleasure.

Gregory pulled away. “Need a lift?” he asked. Mycroft shook his head. “Car’s on the way.” 

Gregory nodded. “I’d better take this so. Text me when you’re free?”

“Of course,” replied Mycroft, stepping over to his own depressing black car, which had just pulled alongside.


End file.
